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Feb 2017 · 367
Emerald City In Your Eyes
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
Each grain of sand slipping in this hourglass of life-
seems to remind me that you aren't right by my side-
the fleeting wide-eyed surprises we shared together
doesn't make up for a better night rest and I'm up again
with a paper and pen, penning my pensive thoughts
that are caught in the back of my skull into words.
The hurt is still there but I'll forget them all if I could
just hold you in my arm.

Remind you that I am the calm after a storm and your-
eyes are the most beautiful gems I have ever seen.
The emerald green really brings out the depth of your heart,
but the art you bleed to life seems to spill off the canvas
and the answers I'm looking for can only be found in your eyes.

Tonight; I'm reminded of how much you made me smile,
tonight; I'm reminded of how much I have loved you.
Every moments pass by, days go by and I know,
I know, I know, I missed the chance to ever see you again.
This pen bleeds my anguish but the tear stained tissues
captures my misused miss yous.

You have cities in your eyes, I wish I could see them again,
the sunrises, sunsets, the butterflies, the birds and the horizon;
beyond the photos,
beyond the memories.
Feb 2017 · 219
Rain
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
In the night
I learn to cry
"this life is crazy"

In the light
I hear a cry
"why won't someone save me?"

We found safety in each other's arms,
but this isn't a blizzard fulfilling wishes;
this is a tragic thunder-
living under the care of a sorrowful storm.

Each bolt of lightning
jolts the senses,
It's the thunderous roar
that mends us.

We are the grey in the sky,
pouring tears out of our eyes.
We are the grey in the sky,
made to live and die in a moment of rain.
Feb 2017 · 205
Summer's Day
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
Her smile is like a summer's day
a taste of tepid waters and warm embrace
she is like a rose with petals shaped like the moon
not to wallow in fumes of switched on heaters
but to spread the fresh aroma of a summer's day.

She is like a summer's day,
but winter comes too soon.

A summer's day where the grass is green
the bees buzz and the things seen
will be indelible from the memory.
Feb 2017 · 359
Wounded Soldier
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
I just want to keep you safe in my arms
I can't seem to carry the weight of both of us
and I have been trying to keep my brain happy
but that ****'s broken,
that ****'s broken.

I been meaning to tell you I'm crying,
I just can't seem to make it all go away
and I know it's hard to admit it but this heart's open,
but that ****'s broken
that ****'s broken.

I been trying to live up to your expectations,
the way you make me feel like a tsunami is approaching,
and I'm watching TV hoping my dreams were made like movies,
but that ****'s broken
that ****'s broken.

I stay awake in the night, saying goodbye to my dreams,
and it seems that you don't even notice, but hey-
I'm making the effort for the both of us and this relationship is hurting
So please don't tell me;
that that ****'s broken,
Because I'm hurting
and I'm broken,
but I'm still going,
I'm still going.

I am the work in progress you're dreaming of,
I am the wounded soldier you're leaning on
And
I am the one who will love you into the afterlife
So tonight...
Can you give me your time and just smile
Because it keeps me going
the light behind each whitened teeth is enough of a drug,
and I've been ****** up and broken long before you,
So smile, smile, smile
And don't tell me we are broken,
Because I'm still going...
I'm still going...

And this love of ours will be a story to tell our kids,
About the kiss that completes the afternoon
and the spoon we shared on New Year's Eve.
So don't tell me this love is broken
Because I'm still going
I'm still going.
You...make me want to keep going.
Feb 2017 · 1.3k
The Moth
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
I am a moth chasing a flame,
you're burning me every second-
but there's no second guessing
that I am drawn to you.
I am a moth chasing a flame,
I might crumble to ash and dust,
to nothing but charred remains,
yet I still won't ever change.
I am a moth chasing a flame,
like a desert chasing the rain,
like a cloud chasing a plane,
like a needle chasing a vein.

I am a moth chasing a flame.
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
You were once just a child as well, with eyes bright blue,
who knew nothing of right or wrong, the starlight's song-
comforted you from the wrong your father committed,
the childhood hurt grew every minute and the pictures
you've taken shows a father and child but not a father figure,
the flicker of a flash could show a mother or a father,
some in the name of scripture and some in the name of tradition.
but canes and whips in the name of discipline
did not transform kids to men; only bruises to hatred.
It is a generational hatred,
and it is time to stop tradition,
it is time to stop physical abuse against children,
because once upon a time- you were once just a child as well.

*Hatred breeds more hatred.
Feb 2017 · 435
Star-Light Wishing
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
Do you ever wonder if stars are lovers wishes,
the thousands and millions of wishes to be together forever,
and a city without stars is a city of lovers that have never seen a day apart.
What if stars are a painting of the different pathways,
two lovers could take?

What if the late night thinking and the dazzling stars,
are telling me that you and I are a mistake?
But what if they're telling me that you were made for me,
the same way stars are made for each other to form constellations?
Feb 2017 · 197
Fairy Tale Yearning
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
You've made me turn to tales of make believe;
I'm begging you to leave my mind
because in the night I'm thinking of you
and in the day I'm dreaming of you.
So please,
Just leave,
I don't need another fairy tale...
Not right now...
Not right now...
Feb 2017 · 263
Fading
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
The whispers are fading,
the battles we are fighting,
it feels like time is wasted
and now it's a struggle just to breathe.

The faint sounds of a heartbeat,
but the cries seem to get louder;
and the love flowing in our bloodstream,
it feels like it's wasted,
it feels like it's wasted.

You used to hold me in your arms,
but now you just shout your curses,
and the time we spend apart;
just seems to only get longer
just seems to only get longer.

I'm invisible when you don't need me,
I spend my time making myself feel seen,
just hoping that you'd finally see me,
**but I guess I'm fading,
I guess this is fading.
Feb 2017 · 220
Simple Things [10W]
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
Things could be so much simpler
living in yesterday's lights.
Feb 2017 · 616
Holding On
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
If I ever let go, it'll be the worst thing I can imagine;
I'm holding on, to the shadows and the smell of you,
because in a single breath: so much could happen,
I'm holding on, to the thoughts and memories of you.
Feb 2017 · 434
Torn Buildings
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
Your words wage war; they've torn down the confidence I've spent a lifetime building.
The feeling of shattered self esteem is incomparable to any other pain known.
I've grown to learn to fend for myself,
to help myself, but I know all too well what it is like to hurt.

Your words are an artillery of hurt
each engraved with the letters that form the words
       D     E     S      T      R     U    C     T       I        O     N,

and
           H        A       T        E.
Feb 2017 · 218
Sunshine and Roses
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
She says the gems that have become her eyes doesn't shine,
she's been force-fed lies by those who despise her differences:
because her interests are not the same as theirs and the air
that she breathes somehow robs her of her sense of purpose;
she feels worthless by the curse words that people fire her way
like a birthday cake at a wake, she says these gems leak liquid
as if being gifted was the plague she lays awake afraid of the night-
because in the night, the nightmares seem to follow her.

She feels little, belittled by people who go out of their way
to make her in their way, she is the bullseye in plain sight,
so in daylight; her smile becomes concave downwards;
the cowards seem to know how to always overpower her,
and like a sour burp; she is a clear warning of what may occur.

She walks pass so many houses everyday; unique in their own way,
but it is all for display because the families inside aren't always sunshine
and roses.

She says the gems that have become her eyes doesn't shine,
I say they light up more than she could ever notice,
because feeling broken occurred more than mending
and like sending a letter, she awaits on a pending paper
so that the pen and paper could cure her of the blues.

She says the gems that have become her eyes doesn't shine,
but oh how divine they are, if only they weren't coated in tears,
she'd be able to hear how much her eyes sparkle and glisten.
[Ohhh tragic: the twisted world we live in....
and with the life I am given, I will make sure she knows her eyes- they shine.]
Feb 2017 · 314
Blind Maiden's New Glasses
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
The familiar siren echoes against the street's pavement
the blind maiden seems to play favourites against my colour,
as if the cover of my internal organs speaks of my character
and the caricatures show the nakedness of my colour, my skin.
If beauty is only skin deep, do I weep from the labels I wear?
Do I tear at my skin to rid the chains that bound me to history?
Does my glistening skin seem more tainted as time passes,
or do I scurry away to live in the separated classes assigned to me?

The green of the grass reflects off of my skin, I am green
I have been as blue as the ocean since the day I discovered life and death,
with each breath I continue to realise more and more about life,
like how my future wife might have to answer "you're with him for real?"
The teal of the sky would remind her to be patient with people;
life is a story, the sequel is how we choose to wield the pen and write,
the white blank paper may be filled with dots and marks,
like our heart it may contain scratches and bend but we defend it
because being defenceless in this modern day is a call for exploitation.
Colours should be labels given to objects,
why can we not strive to give a new label by removing our blindfolds,
why can we not just say I have a soul made of gold, or I am beautiful,
why can we not find more labels that are suitable in describing character?

The blind maiden is slowly starting to look pass my skin
and lawyers with pockets lined with green are not a definite win.
The barriers between classes seem to have tumbled, so stumble and fall,
we've all built our own defences in life, our own barriers,
but when shall we stop building and start breaking down barriers?

Leave winter days for winter, the summer might just yet vanish.
Feb 2017 · 229
Roses and Lilacs
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
I wish I had a garden of guardians,
a place to plant my heart in, where parting ways-
and the resulting dismay are non-existent.
I wish I had a place to put my heart in,
where my heart remains fully guarded,
never to be discarded like broken business cards.
I wish I had a place to plant my heart in,
so that it could grow into roses and lilacs,
****** into a happily ever after, not to be mistaken for happy endings.
I want to grow a garden of stories, all of which rose petals-
settles on the soil, guiding me to the one who would hold my heart.
I want my heart guarded but enough so that it could still be stolen.

"Roses are red,
Lilacs are light purple;
I'm hoping the rose petals-
somehow leads me to you.
"
Feb 2017 · 267
A Million Guardian Angels
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
The auburn sky hasn't been auburn for a while,
it bleeds denial that everything will be alright,
but at night the sky in its expanse, expands my mind,
for it is at night that I learnt to love the sky in its disguise,
its mysterious eyes looking over me, not just the pair,
but despair seems to vanish, banished by a million eyes,
all that shine and illuminate the gated paths of my life.

I believe people call them stars, those eyes that look down,
but I frown upon such simplistic labels of stars,
but those eyes that gaze on me from afar are more than just celestial bodies,
those eyes that gaze on me from afar are
the source of my light and more or less:
my guardian angels, guarding from the complete darkness of night.

The auburn sky hasn't been auburn for a while,
and with a smile I say 'frankly I don't care,
as long as the night shares the guardian angels with me'.
Gregory Dun Aer Feb 2017
Hear the world chant for change
as the other half fight the tears
close the chapter of the old
and watch the tales truthfully unfold...

We have found history spinning
and with each spiral of confusion
will we ever survive this?

— The End —